Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Xander dried me off from head to toe and walked me out into the bedroom. His coldness in the shower at the words I almost said saddened me. I was dumb for even considering telling him that I loved him… but I felt it deep inside my soul. I think he felt it, too, because he shut down completely. The darkness that surrounded him cloaked him and the man I shared an intense moment with disappeared.
“Get dressed. I had one of the maids get you some clothes, since I can't have you leaving the house in nothing more than my t-shirt.”
My gaze swings to the bed and I'm surprised to see a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt, along with a pair of cotton panties and a white bra.
“Where are we going?” I ask, shivering as I put my clothes on.
Xander gawks at me, and desire pools in his gaze but he doesn't act on it. In fact, he dresses himself, putting on a suit that makes him look like a damn god. It’s tailored to his body and as I look down at myself and what I'm wearing, I realize just how out of sorts I am.
“We are going wherever I say we're going,” he answers, his tone tight. Tension coils deep inside him. He looks like he might snap at any given second.
He pulls a phone from his pocket, typing something out on it before pocketing it. Then he gets out his gun and places it in his holster. I wish more than anything that I had my phone… or anything that is mine, for that matter. My gaze drops down to my hands and, without a word, he walks out of the room.
What the hell?
I rush out the door behind him, my hands gripping onto his arm, stopping him mid-step. He swivels around on his feet so fast that I almost slam into him.
“Hey, why did you walk away without me? I just wanted to know—”
My words are cut off as Xander grips me by the throat. His touch is hot, his eyes are violent, warning me that in this moment he has all the control, and I understand why he's being this way now. All because of me… and the stupid need to tell him how I felt.
“Just because I showed you kindness and didn’t fuck you until you bled to death doesn't mean were friends. It doesn't mean I have to tell you a fucking thing. You're still at my mercy, and if I want to fuck you into oblivion right this damn second, I will. I make the fucking rules… me!” he practically screams into my face.
My lips tremble, and my blood turns cold at the harshness of his voice.
I struggle to get out of his grip, but he squeezes ever so gently, just enough to make it hard to breathe. His fingers dig into my flesh, those same fingers having brought immense pleasure just hours ago.
“I'll make this very clear to you… I own you. I’ll tell you what to wear, what to eat, who to talk to, and when you can piss. You're mine. But nothing we did today means shit. It was sex. That was fucking it. Don't get attached, and don't act like I give a fuck about you, because we both know that I don't. I could put a bullet right between your eyes, and it wouldn't affect me.”
Tears stain my cheeks and as if his verbal abuse hasn't been enough, I add more to it with a question I know I won't like the answer to. “Why're you acting this way?”
“You think this is a fucking act?” His eyes darken, if that's even possible, and his fingers tighten around my neck. Black spots appear before my vision as the air in my lungs evaporates.
Panic creeps in, and I wonder if he might kill me. I grasp onto his wrist, trying to pull it away or at least loosen his grip, but he isn’t budging, not even an inch.
“I should kill you right now. Get you out of my life for good.”
I know he doesn’t mean it. There is no way he wants me dead.
Yet, he is squeezing the life out of me, his actions betraying what I know he wants.
Our eyes are locked on each other, but I can’t read him in this moment. I have no idea what he is thinking and a moment later, I don’t care anymore. All I can think about is getting air into my lungs. I squeeze my eyes shut, wondering if this is it.
Will this be how I die?
As if he hears my words, he releases me. My lungs expand, sucking precious oxygen into my lungs. My legs give out under me and I slump to the floor, trying to get my erratic breathing under control. I gasp, my throat burns, but I am alive.